Kingsman: The secret service- Origins
by Trogmorten
Summary: Elyan, a new agent at the service, back from a year long mission in Saudi Arabia, joins forces with Agents Galahad and Merlin in order to prevent a major terrorist attack on the Seoul Olympics of 1988. Meanwhile the inner balance of power in the secret service starts to tip, threatening her and the people dearest to her. -Multiple PoV's, violence, mild swearing- Merlin/O
1. Chapter 1

**Kingsman the secret service- origins**

* * *

Elyan the white

(Chapter one)

* * *

In hindsight, the amount of jitters she had had at the first measuring and fitting of her acceptance suit was exaggerated. She was not afraid they'd tell her that they have been mistaken, and that indeed, that prick John _had_ been a better choice, no. She had no premonitions about her worth, or about her capability. She had been measure, her worth had been calculated and she had been found fitting.

She stood in fitting room number one, in which she'd officially "pop her cherry", she had enough dignity to be embarrassed at first while her patron and mentor, Bors, had smiled mischievously. She was alone now in the small wood paneled room, standing in front of a tall mirror. Some of her shame and embarrassment had long since dissipated while training, one could not stay modest for long while being force to squeeze the lemon in a shared quarters with boys. She had heard enough and had _seen_ enough to last her a lifetime. They all had gradually lost track of propriety and settled with feeling comfortable at those small, confining quarters. She let herself smile at her reflection. She came out a winner, like she had told John after he had seen fit to try and harass her, her sex would not be an obstacle.

The woman staring back at her was almost unrecognizable. She had thought a year ago that she had been fit, but boy, did she find out what _truly fit_ meant. Now, the stranger in the mirror was all angular lines and firm muscles, her eyes looked bigger, greener to her in a suddenly serious face, and her hair, now dyed brown and tamed to submission,laying in neat rivulets down her back made her look completely different from the face she had seen in the mirror her whole life. A sharp knock on the door brought her out of her musing, "Are you done ogling your arse now, Elyan?" Asked Bros, his deep voice sliding around her new name was a small victory.

"Well, excuse me, it's hard to stop with this lovely sight." She said, opening the wooden door, looking at her mentor with a sense of giddy anticipation. "Isn't it a beauty?"

She took a step forward slowly, a small thrill of satisfaction raced through her at the soft 'clack' and 'click' of her lovely Oxford shoes.

"It is an excellent breech indeed-" He laughed.

"I meant the suit, Bors."

"So did I." His eyebrow arched.

Her smile was catching as it was now reflected on Bors's face as well, folding little crow's feet next to his eyes. Elyan brushed a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling conscious of herself. Bors put both hands on her shoulders, fixing the seam placement at her shoulders so it would sit _just so, _completely missing the small grimace of pain that had blossomed on Elyan's face and was immediately shoved under a blank mask.

He took a step back, motioning the man who stood watching behind the cash register to come. He was a young man of about Elyan's own age,with a sense of sharpness to his entire visage, down from his smart suit and up to his keen eyes and high cheek bones. In his hands was an elegant black box, the Kingsman emblem depicted in gold leaf delicately on the lid. The suit had been lovely, but the sleek Glock 18 laying on velvet inside the box was true beauty. Her hand almost reached forward on its own violation before she stopped, "May I?" She asked, and Bors just nodded his head. It was in her hand in less then a heartbeat, sliding in her hands as she examined it with practiced moves, It was still new and stiff, the spring still arduous, but it was like a wild horse, still unbroken for the saddle. Bors took a step toward her, picking up a leather holster that had lain in the box, momentarily forgotten, attaching it to her elegant belt with a smile, then going on one knee, brandishing a long combat knife from thin air, strapping it to her left calf.

"Now, you are a proper Kingsman," He said, warmth lacing his tone as he braced her, "Or will it be a kingslady for you?"

"Get me an Arctic Warfare L118A1 with a folding stock, and I'll be whatever you want me to be."

* * *

Looking at her Bremont wristwatch, Elyan concluded it was better to be early rather then late. Bors was out, still recovering from a lucky shot a man with a hunting knife managed to land on him, luckily hitting only muscles. It was satisfying to know Her own bullet spilled his brains on the ground a moment after, yet it still aggravated her Bors had ordered her to hold her fire. She had had a clean shot, but orders were orders and Elyan had been taught to take them.

Her meticulously clean Oxfords clacked lightly as she climbed up the stairs, her hand latching lightly onto the rails as fatigue and jet-leg still lingered deep in her. She was fresh off the airplane, after a year-long mission in Saudi Arabia as her tan skin suggested. It felt surprisingly weird to be without a hijab, and back in her clean well tailored outfit or rather without the constant tension and adrenaline. Soon the incident in Mecca floated to the top of her mind and weariness took her swiftly. The incident was not of their own work, but knowing that quicker work could have stopped the riots, nay, the massacre of four hundred people lay heavily on Elyan's shoulders. Bors had been angry to hear those thoughts and had called her on her vanity, not everything that happened on a mission had immediate connection to her.

It was hurtful to hear it at first from her mentor and friend, but it was true none the less and she tried not to feel guilty about the incident. She knew that some days the handgun on her hip and the knife at her shin felt heavier then a mountain, and some days she felt lighter the a feather. She was decidedly _not_ lighter then a feather as she took a turn and collided head first into what felt like a brick wall. Tottering on the edge of the stairs, her descend backwards came to her with the frightened realization that to avoid breaking her limbs she'd have to drop her bag, and in said bag, or rather in said case lay her precious L118A1. She'd rather break a leg then harm it.

All thought of breaking bones halted as two strong hands stopped her tottering, apparently belonging to the man built like a solid brick wall.

"All right?" he asked in a deep voice while Elyan put her mind and suit back together properly.

"Peachy," She said tiredly, "Thank you."

She looked the new stranger up and down for a moment, trying to think why he looked familiar. The man looked down at her, which at her 180 centimeters she found incredibly ridiculous. He was all straight lines and angles, his nose straight and sharp, with two keen brown eyes that looked at her with concern. Why did his face look familiar? She had been away for a year, whisked away to the call of arms by Bros almost less then a week after receiving her suit and firearms. Why would she know him? She barely knew anybody.

She turned left to let the stranger pass right at the moment he too stepped left, and stepped right as he did too. Her cheeks colored and they looked at each other, she raising a bashfully amused eyebrow, and he saying "Sorry" with a smile.

"After you." He said, moving to the left, indicating her passage with his arm. How quaint of him Elyan thought rather dryly, but stepped forward none the less."thank you" She said quickly, and hurried away down the hallway, missing the look that had lingered on her. She felt that as first impressions go, this was was slightly botched.

She spotted the door numbered fourteen and entered it holding a sigh. She did not _want_ tea now, she _needed_ it.

The room was small but not stifling, two large windows that looked down the bustling streets were opened, letting a surprising breeze leaf through the room. a closed wooden door lay at the the other side, A middle aged woman sat behind a receptionists desk in front of it, looking at Elyan expectantly, and Elyan in turn brandished her best smile, for once seeing a person she knew.

"Martha!" She said,"It has been ages, hasn't it?" it was all polite talk, as one could expect, and the receptionist was well addressed, "Elyan, dear, it sure has! You are rather early, aren't you?"

"I sure bloody am."

At the end of her sentence Elyan let herself drop the heavy case she had carried, putting it down gently next to a plump sofa, dumping herself rather unceremoniously on it. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Fancy a cuppa?" Asked the older lady and Elayn grunted her gratitude as she heard the sounds of brewing tea. Four grateful sips of what Elyan considered the nectar of life she felt more like herself.

"Arthur will see you in a bit," Said Martha, her brow frowning with concern as she looked at Elyan, "Is everything alright?"

Elyan waved the concern away "Nothing special, just been feeling a bit dicky lately, It'll probably fix itself after a nice long kip."

'A bit' turned out to be after two cuppas and a nice _long_ chat with Martha. The door behind Martha's desk opened suddenly with a click, and out strode a man clad in a perfectly tailored Kingsman suit, a pair of smart looking glasses balanced on a straight nose, that yet again looked at her from above, he looked slightly upset. It was ridiculous! How tall were man in this establishment? Bors used to complain she was higher then he, and she had used to say that his Japanese mother laughed at him from beyond the grave, he was never to happy with that comment.

"Galahad," Said Arthur's voice from within his office, "I have noted your worries. Galehault want to see you at base, and Guinevere asked me to remind you you have yet to take from the dog-pen." After a moment the man himself stepped out of his office and into the room, handing Galahad an envelope, looking grave. They seem to come to a mutual agreement, and a moment later Galahad turned on his heel and strode out of the room, sparing the ladies a quick nod of his head.

"Elyan, please come on in."

* * *

She fell to her bed without much ceremony, shaking her shoes off of her feet. She knew that Bors would've had a heart attack had he seen her discard her cloths in such a fashion, but at the moment she was too exhausted to care. She crawled under the cool covers with a thankful sigh, relishing the feel of clean, fragrant sheets against her skin. Elyan bunched the covers around her waiting for her body heat to warm the small cocoon of sleepiness, her head to quiet down and finally fall asleep.

The room that had been given to her at the headquarters was clean and comfortable, paneled with dark wood and rich, heavy drapes and a beautiful view from the third floor down unto the bustling street, not that she'd be gazing upon it any time soon. Since a house was not yet arranged for her, and when offered sleeping at Bors's house while he was hospitalized earned a frown, she had been put, after a fashion, in the closest room available. She had thanked the bean sprout of a young man that had been charged of her current welfare and asked to be left alone for the next couple of hour. She couldn't remember the boy's name, and at the moment didn't particularly cared for it, she had a conference in a couple of hours, and goddammit, she was going to sleep well before getting her head chewed on.

Her whole body felt heavy, not only of sleep deprivation, because now, in the resonating silence of the room the last encounters in Mecca began to surface again, like a dirty, filmy layer of oil on the torrent of her thoughts.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on calming herself. She hugged herself, pushing down the sharp twang of pain that laced through her right shoulder, breathing deeply. She had told Arthur about the last developments that had occurred in Saudi Arabia, going into details when asked, reciting whole conversations from memory. She hoped It may ease the load off Bors who had to file the incident reports as the senior member of the team. She grimaced, burrowing deeper into the covers, regulating her breaths and focusing only on the heat pouring off her body.

The door opened with a silent gust of air and Elyan was suddenly, irritatingly awake.

"Miss White? You are needed down at the conference." Said a deep, polite voice from the door. It sure didn't sound like the bean sprout, but hell if she cared.

"Get out and shut the door, or I swear I'll shoot your knee caps." She said gruffly, burrowing deeper into the blankets, raising her tousled head, scrunching her eyes at the door and the silhouetted figure standing there after he failed to fuck off.

"Seriously? It hasn't been an hour." She complained.

"It has been four, Miss White, Arthur asks for you."

"Blow me." She said, she'd rather keep cursing him, but life didn't give her lemons yet. She sat up, holding the blanket to her chest. The man still stood at the door partially blocking the light shining in the corridor, not getting the hint.

"Well? Get out." She said.

"I must insist you wake up."

"I am up, and I am starkers. As much as I like Arthur I'd rather keep some mystery to myself, yes?" She scoffed, her nose scrunching up. She could not see his face, but his posture changed slightly. Was he embarrassed? She stood up in one swift motion, throwing her legs over the side of the bed, her back to him, standing in a pair of white knickers of the fancier sort. The door shut behind her with a click, and Elyan let herself stretch, popping her neck and her back. She eyed her strewn suit, regretting her earlier decision. She shimmied into the suit pants, tucking in a fresh cobalt blue button down, pulling on her khaki vest and coat and sliding her legs into her Oxfords. She hoped she didn't look wrinkly, but she didn't have much time to gussy up. The man was in the corridor, leaning on the wall looking idly at a pair of black rimmed glasses. He looked up when she got out, his eyes making a quick scan of her, probably noting the gun at her hip and the large case on her back, as she scanned him and found that he too was armed.

"Lead the way..." She paused.

"Merlin."

"Lead the way Merlin."

* * *

"Korean lessons! I have to take Korean lessons!" She said, frustrated, "Can't they send me to Italy, or Madrid? Heck, they can send me to Tel Aviv and I'd blend in!

"Oh yes," Rasped Bors," With that accent you can blend _anywhere_."

"I bloody well can, Bors! Maybe when you'll get out of this bed you can move your Korean ass and help me!" She said and he smiled, his snickers cutting short as he grabbed his aching sides grimacing. "Serves you right, I could have landed the shot."

"I heard you the first thousand times." He gave her a sharp look and she dropped he matter. There were friendly jibes and there was a line she'd rather not cross with her mentor.

"I brought you cup noodles." She said to break the silence that fell. He smiled and motioned her to bring him one. Five minutes later, the door to Bors's room had been shut and they both huddled inside with their instant noodles like a couple of teenagers trying their parent's booze for the first time. "I'll never forgive you for introducing these to me," Said Elyan as Bors took a skillfully held mouthful of noodles, slurping them happily. Elyan held her chopsticks awkwardly, her fingers starting to cramp with the effort of holding a hopeless mouthful of noodles. "They are so horribly addictive," She said, looking at Bors testily as she tried maneuvering the chopsticks to her mouth, "Shame on you, you'll make me spend more hours at the jim."

Her noodles fell with a wet flop back into the Styrofoam cup as Bors knock the chopsticks from Elyan's hand with a lightning fast rap on her knuckles with his own chopsticks. She hissed and muttered a few choice curses under her breath as she bent to take her chopsticks back in hand.

Bors was laughing silently at her effort to arrange them back by hands, and not so quick to avoid one hitting his face as she gave up propriety and slurped the noodles directly from the cup.

Now they were both sitting in a hospital room, giggling like children, eating instant noodles and trying to hush each other.

"Jig is up, Bors, hand it over." Said a voice from the door sternly. The reaction was instantaneous as they both tried to hide their hasty lunch behind their respective backs, Bor's going the extra mile and actually swallowing the the incriminating evidence.

at the door stood a woman, looking at the two agents like a mother who caught her children with their hand in the cookie jar. Her stature and demeanor made them both cringe in their seats, after all it was not a regular occurrence for the head of Kingsmen, Guinevere, came to check her agents personally.

Guinevere, although not very tall, dominated the room with her presence, regality and authority practically oozing out of her pores. Her brown hair, pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and the silver that has already started lacing through it accented the keen edge in her vividly blue eyes.

The slight tilt of Guinevere's head made Bors surrender his steaming meal sadly. "Madam, it is a pleasure to see you again after such a long time." Said Bors politely settling back onto his pillows with an air of resignation.

"It is good to see you in good spirits, Byung-Hun," She said, noting the slight tightness her words caused around Bors's eyes, "We were all worried when your mission took a bad turn." Now the tightness was accented and Elyan moved a little in her chair.

"Anwen, it is good to see you in one piece as well, you look so different I almost did not recognize you." Which was a the understatement of the year by Elyan's opinion "By what name do you go now?" Guinevere asked Elyan, whose hackles rose bit by bit. "Elyan," She said "The white."

The inner joke was not lost on Guinevere, and a thin smile stretched her colored lips. "An interesting choice."

"Not really." She said.

It was an a known secret that Arthur and Guinevere were doing their best to be the thorn in each others side. Their rivalry had started back when they were both just agents, and ultimately at the end of the prolonged pissing contest they were both having, Guinevere gained the upper hand when the late Merlin picked her as his successor. A fact better not mentioned aloud in the presence of Arthur.

"Lancelot's slot is still empty," Guinevere said, addressing to both the agents in the room even though her eyes lingered on Elyan, "You are _both_ encouraged to submit an apprentice. The tryout will be held in half a year from now."

As something in Guinevere's stance changed she gave Bors one last look, "I assume I will have the report on my desk soon?" She motioned and turned to leave, "I hope you'll be up on your feet soon, Bors, you are needed out of this bed."

He gave no replay as she walked out the door, her heels clicking down the hall.

"I will not su-" Elyan began angrily as Guinevere's footsteps could no longer be heard.

"I know, you don't have to." Bors cut in, now leaning fully on his small mountain of pillows, eyes closed. He looked exhausted, but it didn't stop Elyan from fuming. "She has some nerves! Telling _me_ to pick a substitute to Lancelot! That wreathed little-"

"Anwen." Bors cut her the second time. Upon hearing her name said so tiredly Elyan closed her mouth sullenly.

"Have you met any of the other agents yet?" He asked.

"Not formally, no."

"Who is Arthur considering as your pair for this mission?" he asked.

"How did you know they were looking for a pair?"

"Who do you think recommended you, _pabo_?"

"What?"

"Complain less about your Korean lessons and you might understand." He said, and Elyan could hear the edge of fatigue entering his voice. She rose from her seat, taking her now cold cup of noodles and throwing it into the bin, tiding after herself. "Yea yea, _haham ba'layla._ I hear you."

She fussed over his blankets for a moment, mothering him for a minute more. His hand came to rest one her own, and he looked up at her, smiling reassuringly. He understood the small turmoil that brew in her chest. She smiled lopsidedly, bent to kiss the top of his head, then turned and left without a word.

* * *

The recoil of the magnificent Steyr AUG para in her hands was only a small reminder of the outside world. Elyan's vision was pinpointed through the sight and unto the target, a wooden standard torso target, that was now being reduced to pencil shavings. The adrenaline coursing through her veins heightened her sense into sweet agony.

The recoil jabbing her shoulder was forgotten, but the sweet smell of gunpowder's smoke whiffed around her, caressing her face, stinging her eyes as she stood up from her position on the floor, not breaking shooting sequence and started walking toward the target.

Boiling empty shells flew next to her as she secured in the next magazine, the constant noise of emission and combustion filtered through her (supposedly) sound-prof headphones. she was nearing the end of the magazine now and the shredded target leaned dangerously to the side.

In a the moment the target started moving Elyan dropped the Steyr and with one swift motion drew her Glock 18 from its holster, operating it in a heart beat, pulling the trigger and delivering a single swift kick to the falling target, sending it flying across the spacious shooting range.

She took a deep breath and suddenly the whole world gained perspective. The adrenaline still rushed through her as she dissembled her Glock, putting it back in the holster, adjusting the shoulder strap that held the Steyr on her person. She huffed and moved the large rifle to her back, where it didn't dig into her thigh as much, turning to look at the mildly horrified face of the range manager, who looked at her from behind a window of reinforced, bulletproof glass.

She tapped her headphones then took them down as she approached the window.

Knocking on the glass she smiled her winning smile at the manager, leaning casually on the stone rimmed ledge.

"Did the Re-designed Galil arrive yet, Bobby?" She said and watched as Bobby re-adjusted the glasses that perched on his nose, his cheeks were slightly red, giving him a sickly look. His eyes flickered to his left for a moment and he stayed silent. "Okay," She said, taking off her black gloves, her irritation peaking as she walked briskly to the door embedded in the room Bobby was currently huddling in. "Bobby, Did the Galil arrive yet, or do I have to rummage through the racks myself?"

That seemed to break him out of his stupor. "Room number four is using it right now." he said pointing to the other door on the opposite wall. She nodded once, pulling the Steyr off of her, putting it on the metal table in front of Bobby,leaving him to care for it.

The shooting range was shaped like a ring, the main hall a perfect loop, with doors spaced evenly. It belonged to a rich funder coming from old money. She stepped out of room twelve, walking to room number four's observation room.

It was small, like the room Bobby had stood at, watching her drills. Elyan stepped in, the room's speakers were turned on, and even before spotting the men training on the wide range she could hear them communicating in shouts, for some reason.

There were two men on the field, one moving in fully assembled disguise gear, fake shrubbery and all and the other standing next to the reinforced window,leaning casually on the wall in full Kingsman regalia.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT!" Screamed the man with the shrubs as he proceeded to drop unto his knee and release a long sequence of shots, decimating a water-based target, moving forward as it exploded in a shower of pink colored water.

"WHY BOTHER? YOU KNOW THE KALASHNIKOV IS JUST AS GOOD." the leaning man concluded, aiming a small laser device onto the next target.

"JUST AS GOOD?!" Said the shooter as he blew up the targeted barrel, "NO, JUST AS GOOD IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOUR TEA, HOW CAN 'JUST AS GOOD' BE OKAY WITH AN ASSAULT RIFLE?"

The tiny red dot moved with viper like speed from target to target, directing the torrent of firepower to each and everyone of them. The two continued to argue, but after a moment ot was lost on Elyan as she focused on the man operating the Galil. He was swift, accurate and fluid as he changed one barrel with a reserve in less the a heartbeat, barely breaking a perfect string of shots between arguments. He landed on his knee almost too perfectly as he aimed a difficult shot up a barrel hidden behind an obstacle. He was textbook positions and executions, better then textbook, it was familiar. She suddenly itched to bring her Arctic Warfare beauty and join him.

She resisted and stood still as the wrapped their range up, the shooting men transitioning from the intensity of the range and into casual stance admirably. God, she hoped she looked too star struck.

And then he turned.

"Merlin?" She said as the man dropped his accessorized helmet to the ground, rubbing a perfectly shaved head. He turned to look at her, surprise written on his features.

"Miss White?"

"Who are you?" The leaning man asked suddenly, breaking the staring contest at the beginning. As if the whole situation was a bad joke, Galahad took a step forward, sending her a sharp, assessing look. It was very peculiar, being watched from above by two tall men.

"Elyan, I wanted to test the Galil." She entered the range stepping on fake grass and walking around obstacles, finally standing in front of Galahad, extending her hand for a shake. His grip was satisfyingly firm as he shook her hand, she could hear Merlin approaching by the rustle of his gear. He held the Galil in his hands.

"You are Elyan?" he said, a strange tone to his voice,"You beat Galahad's Vinny last year at the final assessment."

"Yea, am I supposed to say 'class of 87'!' or something?" She grinned "I never knew you sponsored him," She said, a smile blooming on her face,"I heard he was hired to the tech department in Berlin, wasn't he?"

"Harnessing his massive intellect for the good of us all." Galahad said mildly.

Elyan looked at The beauty laying in Merlin's arms, "May I?" She asked earnestly, a small shudder of delight passing through her as he passed it to her.

She got a little lost in her own world as she examined the assault rifle, marveling at the perfect fit of the rifle's butt in the crook of her shoulder. Her shoulders bunched up as she looked through the sight, taking a couple of testing steps forward, Pulling out the magazine in one swift motion flipping it and inserting it again, Her smile gained teeth as the cocking lever hit home with a satisfying click.

"Well, rumors were true." Said Galahad as Merlin echoed Elyan's smile.

"Huh?"

"Bors had bragged for _weeks_ before the assessments that _his_ disciple had the most unusual affinity to big guns and the like. He wasn't wrong."Said Merlin.

"Well," she said "It's a beautiful piece of work, innit?"

"Truely is. See, Galahad? Some people have taste in firearms."

Galahad sniffed, amused when another man cleared his throat at the opened door.

"Bean sprout!" Elyan exclaimed much to the young man's horror,"What are you doing here?"

"Miss White, I have been searching for you everywhere!" he exclaimed, heaving a breath that was as much as relief as it was exasperation. Something seemed to tug at his hand and a familiar scraping sound reached Elyan's ears. "I have been charged to find you and I have-"

"Mort!" She exclaimed loudly, and in a flurry of movement the Galil was back in Merlin's hands and Elyan was on her knees as an excited cannon ball of canine love burst through the doors in the form of a white and brown German Pointer.

"look at you Mort! still recognize me now, you beautiful baby?" The dog whined thrusting its cold brown nose under her armpit, circling her enthusiastically while sniffing her. It sent her an accusing look for a moment still sprawling at her feet for a mandatory belly rub.

"Not a baby at all anymore, you fat little monster!" She cooed lovingly.

"Haven't seen him in a while?" Said a deep accented voice next to her, as Merlin leaned in next to the tangled pair, sitting on his heels. She suddenly felt the three pairs of eyes on her her cheeks colored prettily. "Yea, Mort was in a foster home for a year," She said, remembering the last look he had given her as she left him, "While I was away."

"Elyan?" Said the bean sprout, whose blond hair was a disheveled mess after he had passed his hand through it with resignation. "We _really_ have to go. _Now._" he stressed and Elyan got off the floor in one smooth move, Merlin's eyes on her and a happily wagging tail hitting her calf enthusiastically. She turned to Galahad and Merlin, who rose too and smiled, "It was a pleasure to meet you! I'll see you around?" She asked and a hint of a smile tilted the men's mouths.

"You sure will." Said Merlin with a lopsided smile as Elyan turned to leave. She missed the truly exasperated, pointed look Galahad sent Merlin and the raised eyebrows that spoke volumes, mainly over the last comment.

"So bean sprout were are we headed?"

"My name is Craig, Miss White."

"Yea? And where are we headed?"She repeated.

"Your new home."

* * *

A\N- Ok, so truth be told I saw the movie twice at the theater, and I love it so much! I have the plot more or less settled in my head, I think that from now on each chapter is going to be from a couple of POV's, mainly Elyan, Merlin and Galahad. I will be dealing with back-stories and some of what happens before the movie. (Missions, power movement and politics within the service.)

Please leave a review, it is like sunshine to the soul!

If someone finds any errors with the times or the era (1988-1987 for now) please mention it. All the firearms I have mentioned here were used in these years. I love rifles. (I used to be a soldier.)

I am in need of a beta!

Tell me your thoughts about Elyan and Bors (who in my head is Lee Byung-Hun, who is probably one of the most attractive people in the world, also an amazing actor.)

All my love

-Trogmorten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Kingsman the secret service- origins**

Merlin Wyllt- Elyan the white

(Chapter two)

* * *

Merlin crouched in position, waiting. The butt of the sniper's rifle dug uncomfortably into his shoulder, and he adjusted it with a huff, his eyes never straying from the sight as he scoured the building in which Galahad had entered.

It was routine, really, he was the insurance there, a scare tactic and a way out when one was needed, a guardian angle of sort. He was mildly bored, the shade that had left him cool started creeping bit by bit to his right, leaving the left side of his body to warm in the rare sun of London.

The single headphone in his ear played music loudly, it was a true marvel it was so small. The fact that he was hearing _Bon Jovi_ was a fact that never reach Galahad as far as he was concerned. As far as testing the arming department's idea's went, this one was rather enjoyable.

Merlin didn't come from old money, as many in the service did, and didn't come from new money either. The term 'disappearing money' would do his rather poor condition justice. With a cold, distant mother that wanted nothing to do with him after he was born, and a father that wouldn't acknowledge his existence for fear of his _actual_ marriage, the only real bit of affection he had gotten was from his old nan, as was his money.

Failed inventions in aspiring technologies and projects took a frighteningly large bite out of his funds and left the word 'bankruptcy' hanging heavily on his head at the age of 17. His desperation was used by the late Lancelot who introduced him to the service and by Guinevere who seduced him with the paycheck.

A stray light, hitting the glass windows of the building on the other side of the street brought back his attention and his enhanced gaze on point.

Shit, was that Galahad at the window? The small distinct vibration of his wristwatch affirmed his suspicions. He switched modes on his sight with his thumb, turning the laser on. It was almost amusing how a small red dot suddenly appearing could make such a big difference.

Galahad looked infuriatingly at ease, walking around the fancy office, as the small red dot pinned the other man in place. Merlin could imagine how the conversation went in his head. Galahad was a pleasant man to be around, always the perfect gentleman, and force to be reckoned with in close combat. He also had a surprisingly sharp sense of humor the popped in times, a great love for a certain tiny, ugly (In Merlin's opinion) dog and a keen eye for liars, which he seemed to come across now.

A grin stretched on Merlin's lips as the man opposite of Galahad seemed to spill his beans, talking frantically, sweat becoming visible on his skin and his eyes straying to the sides ever so slightly as his hand landed on the table.

Son of bitch!

Without hesitation Merlin pressed the small knob on his wristwatch, once, twice, three times.

-cover blown, come out at once-

The small headphone fell from his ear, music playing in dissonance through the air, forgotten.

He could see Galahad receiving the message as in one swift motion he pulled the man by the front of his shirt, pressing him against the wall as he (probably) threatened him with everything he had. One slap, another slap and a shake- why wasn't he coming out? How closed lipped can this pathetic accountant be?

Three quick presses on his watch had Galahad dropping the man and turning to exit the doors. A movement to Galahad's right had Merlin's eye and soon after had him cursing. Fishing a small pocket mirror Merlin diverted his eye from the sight for the first time in an hour.

A beam of well directed sunlight caught Galahad's glasses and he stopped. Merlin almost wanted to kiss the man as he followed the direction he was directing the beam _left_ and not right, where men were starting to suddenly crowd the small corridors.

"Requesting permission to open fire" Said Merlin into the wireless.

Four men walked toward the door that led to Galahad, who had to at least try to look as if he was not running away and that it was just another day at the office. An elderly secretary refused to let him go and Galahad put on a strained face, as he saw with his eye back, pressing into the sight. Stop the gentlemanly gait and get your skinny ass out of there!

The four turned into six as Galahad was still trying to overcome the elderly woman. One of the men started drawing something long and gleaming from a briefcase as Galahad entered the stairway, walking briskly. The men spread out, three heading toward the stairway after the door he left swinging.

"Requesting permission to open fire!" Merlin growled, taking careful aim as his heart beat loudly in his ears. "PERCIVAL!"

His finger came to rest on the trigger, steady as a rock.

"Hold your horses, Merlin, I know what I'm doing." Percival's voice drawled over the wireless. Merlin let loose a string of curses through bared teeth, his eye glued so firmly over his rifle's sight he was sure to bruise. His finger never left the trigger as he trailed the men.

And then, his Galahad's salvation came in the form of a busty ginger secretary clad in a black pencil skirt and a revealing white blouse. He almost wanted to laugh as she dropped the astounding amount of paperwork she was carrying, much to the dismay of her older supervisor and to the surprise of the three passing through, bending to pick them all up, essentially breaking their route with what must only be labeled as the greatest ass of all times.

"What did I tell you, mate?" Said Percival as Galahad walked through the front door, five floors bellow the ginger secretary.

"What?" Merlin let out dumbly.

"She has some _great assets, _If you know what I mean, who knew we had something like that in the service?"

"Shut up, Percival." Cut in Galahad's voice like a cube of ice.

"What, she's from the service?" asked Merlin, confused as his eye turned back to the sight, looking at the girl again once he was sure Galahad was away from harm in the car.

"Yea, who knew Bors's little girl had that in her?"

"I have always thought the son of an agent would treat woman like her with more respect, it is a shame to be proven wrong." Galahad stated mildly over the wireless, but Merlin was too busy trying to recognize the brown headed woman who had taken the Galil from his hands not two weeks ago and operated it so swiftly and expertly.

The ginger beauty exchanged some words with the men who were now helping her pick up the mess, apparently flirting.

"Merlin, stop staring and get down, we are out in five."

His rifle was in pieces in two minutes, back in a trombone's case, secured in its black velvet clutches. He was down the roof and in the street below in three minutes, walking up to and opening the door to a slick looking car, putting the 'trombone' carefully in the trunk and sliding in the rear seat.

"Good, now let's go" Said Galahad who was patting his brow with a handkerchief, sitting next to Percival who looked somewhat chastised. With a sure leg on the gas paddle they bolted down the road and round the building, stopping abruptly by the back door as a ginger woman slid in.

"All right in the back?" Percival drawled once more as she muttered a quick curse, taking off preposterously high heels.

"Yea, Go." She said with some urgency to her voice, at his dallying her nose scrunched in a scowl, "Well, go! I don't want those man to wake up while I'm still here?"

They drove. Elyan let out a little sight and Merlin took a good look at her. Aside from the fact that her hair being red made sense, it gave her face an ethereal sense. She poped her neck with a sigh, inserting two finger to a hidden hairline, pulling off the red wig with practiced ease. She pulled a zip bag from the pocket sewn to the back side of Percival's chair, putting the wig in with a frown, probably worried about it being ruined.

Suddenly their eyes met and Merlin gave a start.

"Merlin?"

He hmmed in affirmation.

"Be a dear and hold this for me for a minute."

Without much a adieu she pulled a Glock from, well, Merlin wasn't sue _where exactly she'd be able _to hide a gun, a combat knife and an extra cartridge, but none the less those were put in his hands.

"Percival, you have my bag?"

"Yea, between my legs here." He said, a smile spreading on his lips,which she mirrored. "Galahad, would you mind?" It was in her hands a moment later and after a moment she had a black T-shirt, a pair of warm socks and a pair of jeans on her lap. She hesitated for exactly a moment before her hands fell to her waistline, grabbing the hem of her shirt.

Merlin's head turned to look out of the window so fast his neck popped. He heard an outtake of breath behind him, and wondered is Elyan was amused. Was she aware of how she looked, he wondered, was she aware of how men probably look at her, like Percival?

He swallowed thickly. For a long time he didn't have time to even think about girls, between debriefs, missions and exercisers most of his time at the flat assigned for him by the service was spent either sleeping or taking care of his dog, Nymue. His Nan used to tell him that he loved fiercely and deeply, devoutly even, and deep within him he could feel a sort of desire stir. At the time, he did not recognize the woman who had lost her balance at the stairwell, and never connected her with the young agent who had received her handgun so gleefully. The penny had finally dropped when the cool, long length of black, deadly metal was in her hands at the shooting range.

Something more about her set a bell ringing in his head, but although the knowledge felt like it was on the tip of his tongue, it was still obscure at the back of his mind. Where else did he remember her from?

He fixed his look on the landscape, hearing the rustle of cloth as Elyan changed, on the side-view mirror he caught Galahad's gaze who in turn raised an eyebrow. The flat look Merlin shot him back made the edges of his lips curve.

* * *

She _had thought_ she was over being shy about her body. She _had thought_ she did not really mind men looking at her, especially now that she was wearing, well, previously wore that skimpy outfit. It had looked good, it did its job well, the wig helped, even though it was a kind of shock, looking at it in the small pocket-mirror. She had looked eerily like her mother, and she did not feel like thinking about that woman now.

She had donned a black sleeveless shirt that was not quite a T-shirt, but better then the sheer white fabric of the alternative, the pants she had found at the small pack and the socks, which she had been most grateful for. Her legs ached familiarly, lamenting the abuse of the high heels. Her feet were snobby now, only oxford for them, she mused, huffing in amusement as she pulled her knees toward he chest.

Her eyes felt tired, she had not slept, and in truth had not expected to be called as a means for another agent to get out in one piece. She wondered why interrogating an accountant was worth the time of four agents,but gave it no lasting argument, It was Arthur's job to think, it was her job to execute, quite literally sometimes.

She caught Percival looking at her through the mirror and ignored it. He was a very handsome man, well built and with a shock like wave of ginger hair. He was the guy who said inappropriate things and covered it by blinding everyone with his smile, which he was sending her at the moment via the mirror. It made his lips curve just _so_, so you had no chance but to think of kissing him. She had thought about it, and found that if ever the time came, she wouldn't be against a good toss with the guy.

But not any time soon.

Merlin and Galahad seemed to exchange a look through the mirror, and Elyan couldn't help but feel a small pinch of jealousy. They looked like the sort of friends who found each other by mistake, but now had unyielding loyalty to each other. The truth was, that without Bors, Elyan sometimes felt out of her element. She was lonely and she missed him terribly.

The silence that had spread in the speeding vehicle was interrupted by the sounds, or rather by the wails of Axl Rose, as "Sweet child o' mine" blared through the radio. The look of disdain Galahad sent toward the radio, and then at Percival was almost comical. Even though the music blared loudly, and even though Galahad was now arguing rather loudly with Percival, Elyan felt herself drift off bit by bit until everything turned to soft buzzing sounds around her. She closed her eyes and leaned to her right, lowering her head unto an unaware shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Elyan soon discovered that doing tongue twister in Korean while waiting for Bors to pick up the phone and tell her she can come may be one of the things she hated most in the world. Vowels poured off her tongue, and her dog, Mort, wagged his tail weakly as she scratched behind his ear absentmindedly.

It seemed to her as if Galahad and Merlin were breezing through their Korean lessons without a hitch while she had her tongue in a knot. It wasn't a very hard language, she thought bitterly, the alphabet was easy enough to memorize, and in truth it was enough to be able to read and understand, but the small part of her that made her fluent in Spanish, Portuguese, Hebrew, Arabic and Russian wouldn't let it go.

Merlin had laughed when she mentioned it, the fact that he spoke as many languages as she, did nothing to dissuade her. His German and Italian were enviable and his accent, aside from being incredibly sexy, was on the point of perfection.

The accountant had turned out to be the man handling the books of a small terrorists cell. Galahad had shared the information after they came back. Galahad looked aggravated when he said that that was all the man had disclosed. Elyan had been tired at the meeting, but never the less she did not miss the heavy air in the room and the slightly hostile look Arthur had directed at Guinevere's as she sent him a haughty one. It irked her, put her one edge, Elyan's instincts whispered to her that information was being kept secret by both Arthur and Guinevere. She could practically feel Merlin and Galahad bristling when Guinevere had declared the meeting over, standing up imperiously and exiting the room, followed closely by her stooped p.a, Percival following suit in a moment.

Mort whines at the back of his throat, looking at her with big, dewy eyes, his tail thumped lightly against her thigh. That dog knew her moods well as he let her hug him close, not complaining, only wagging his tail weakly. The slight animosity, the vague fear hanging in the air around the headquarters frayed her nerves. Meanwhile she learned Korean and let herself be roped into petty missions and intelligence operations.

Elyan dropped her practicing sheets on the sofa and got up from the sofa she and Mort had been burrowing in for the last four hours. The need to pee overpowered her will power to continue saying, and failing, at Korean tongue twisters. Her new apartment is comfortably warm, the blinds are shut as she struts around in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a tank top that exposed her midriff. She'd rather die then let anyone from the agency know that this was what she'd hang out I while off duty. She bet that Galahad had a pair of silken pajama suits hanging in his wardrobe.

Her ache relieved she wondered into the small kitchen and pulled out two cups, setting them on the counter, dropping two teabags into them without much thought. Bors liked his tea strong, and had she let him, he'd spike it with rum. He'd spike her's too, which she'd recognize in an instance, because his rationing was awful and most times there would be more booze than tea. She'd taste it knowingly, making a face and chide him, rearranging her hijab and drinking it all anyway.

Her hand hesitated a moment before the cup, the kettle steaming in her other hand.

Bors wasn't here, he was in the hospital, his knife wound and a gunshot wound still being tended to. She was not his wife, he was not her husband, she wasn't really a translator. The extra cup was back in the cupboard, the teabag in a plastic bag and in the drawer. Her hand brushed over her hair lightly, meeting only hair an no fabric.

Elyan sat back down on the sofa, Mort immediately perching his head on her thigh, looking at her with big sad eyes. She clicket the television on, trying to distract herself with the news, but nothing caught her attention. Her tea wasn't steaming anymore when she picked it back up and the news anchor kept on prattling about the up and coming Seoul Olympics. She shut it off, frowning.

She continued tongue twisters until she fell asleep her phone flashing silently on the coffee table.

* * *

"Mr. Wylt, do come in," Said Guinevere upon Merlin's arrival, "Tea?" She asked, lifting a beautiful, steaming pot off a mahogany desk that was as meticulously ordered as her hair. Merlin declined and set down when she gestured he was allowed.

Her office exuded the sense of rich comfort and clever taste. Guinevere sat in a tall chair made of wood, as stiff and demanding as any queen's throne, and she sat there regally, her eyes not blinking, keen as a hawk.

Merlin felt slightly trapped as Guinevere engaged him in small talk. He wanted to be back in the science department, the new prototype of smart glasses that had been pitched a while ago bore fruit, and he was aching to be the first to try them, as he was the one to endorse them. He'd much rather be anywhere else right now instead here, under the scrutinizing gaze of the current head of the service. His mind halted for a second as a chill passed him. He must not think in terms like 'current', he thought frantically, his face a mask of civil politeness. Guinevere paused, as if sensing his thought, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"I've heard you have met Bors's girl, Elyan," She said fiddling with her cup, stirring its contents and putting the small silver spoon down. "I heard you have been training with her?"

Merlin nodded and Guinevere smiled,pausing to take a sip.

"She seems like a smart girl, a good choice to put in your squad for Seoul, no?"

Calling her a 'smart girl' was an understatement. It was almost a writ of passage for a new recruit to be under the watchful eyes of his, or hers, fellow agents, and it was a known truth that the exam evaluations are sooner or later an open knowledge to all. It was not surprising that a year or so ago Percival had entered Arthur's waiting office (otherwise known as Martha's kingdom) waving a stack of papers victoriously. They had both been impressed (and slightly intimidated) by the her scores. She was awe inspiring with ranged weapons, and her hand to hand combat skills were up to par with Galahad's, who was a devil in a suit when it came down to it, which was a lot.

Her Arabic was flawless, especially after her year-long absence and he had to admit that other then thinking her Spanish accent was (not so) surprisingly alluring, her dialect pronunciation was enviable.

Galahad hadn't approved of him sneaking into the shop the night of her first measurements. Bors hadn't minded,he was proud as a parent and a showoff as well. What was better then showing Merlin his candidate wasn't up to par with his own as to show her victorious?

"I presume the team chosen suits your taste?" Guinevere broke the momentary silence.

"Assuming nothing pops up soon and we enter blind, then yes, they are both the best teammates one could ask for." Merlin said off-handily. It was frustrating that months of intelligence gathering did not bring specific details. The whole mission was like an itch in the back of the neck, you knew someone was watching, but what did he want?

"If you'd give your approval to the intelligence hunt, we can probably squeeze that accou-"

"Absolutely not, Merlin. We had discussed this before, and my answer had been the same before. This discussion is over."

Merlin wanted to sneer and say something biting, instead he remained composed and cool in his chair.

He'd be dammed if he entered completely blind, like Lancelot did. She had been honored and hailed a hero, but where did it get her in the end? Six feet under, with a couple of agents mourning above and a family scattered. Something chimed in Merlin's mind, but the thing that tried to make itself remembered was soon forgotten once more.

"I trust that you will make good friends with Elyan," Said Guinevere, "She will best be used to her full extant with us don't you think?"

'What us was there, exactly?' thought Merlin.

"I think she may be happier if you'd let her see Bors. Sooner or later she is bound to see that he is not the one rejecting her visits." Merlin said dryly, looking at Guinevere with stern eyes. "We both know Bors is not in his right mind currently, the poor man." She said blandly, setting er cup down, her lips compressing slightly. "He put his trust in the wrong man and it lead him astray, it would be a shame for Elyan to follow his steps." apparently there was no point skirting around the gaping wound that the succession war had left in the service. Bors was a rather vocal endorser of Arthur at the time, and Guinevere's eyes had been on him ever since.

"A true shame, madame."

Guinevere gave him a scrutinizing look, nodded and made a faint gesture with her hand, almost dismissing him. She pinned him in his chair with one spare look.

"Remember the hands that fed you, Merlin, when you were in need."

In a moment he was out of the office, not minding Guinevere's p.a as he headed down the stairs and into the tailor's shop without much attention. He felt nausea climbing up his throat, settling behind his eyes. His glasses came off as he rubbed his eyes, lethargy setting heavily into his bones. He was weary of games, weary of his life being endangered with no cause.

* * *

A chill was in the air, much to Merlin's displeasure. He entered the red brick building with a spring in his step and a frown he was trying to quench. The date had been set for their flight to Seoul, living arrangements made and false identities printed and set within the government's files. Galahad had messaged him, saying he'd meet him in the shop in forty minutes. A slick looking black cab was waiting at the edge of the street, as the cabbie was instructed to wait until he came back.

The building was in a quiet part of London, and looked ordinary nearly to perfection. Petunias in clay pots on the sides of the small road leading in, a tacky garden gnome was partially hiding behind a bush and the white frilly curtains holding still on the first floor's gave no indication that on the floor above it lived an agent of a secret service, trained and deadly.

As Merlin's foot set down on the second floor's corridor he could hear the barks of a dog, dimmed behind a wooden door marked only with the number '2'. He stepped close and rang the bell, the dog had quietened down now, as its owner was hurriedly shoving some last items into a suitcase.

Something fell inside and he heard muttered curses.

"Elyan?"

"Ana gayya!"

"What?" He frowned.

"I'm C- Shit, Just a moment!"

The door opened in a rush of air and Elyan is standing there, her hand on the doorknob, looking flustered, a hijab is half-way through wrapped around her head. The fabric is a mesmerizing shade of blue, with small white flowers in delicate embroidery stitched over it.

"Come in,"She motioned," I need to take this off." She said and disappeared behind a door.

Upon entering her apartment a small brown dog came up to him, giving him the full check up, sniffing each leg in turn, walking around him once and giving a small bark of approval. It was a rather small apartment for an agent, and it lacked a certain touch. The only parted that looked disturbed was the sofa, which the dog was now curled on, his head on a bright yellow blanket that was strewn across it like a damsel. It all exudes a sense of sadness, of something misplaced or forgotten.

Elyan came back into the room with the click of high heels, the fabric that was wrapped neatly around her head before was now draped across her shoulders as a light shawl of sorts. It was still slightly odd to see her In anything other then training clothes in the shooting range or one of several kingsman suits and oxfords at the shop. The clothes she wore now were completely ordinary, but she looked anything but ordinary when she walked up to him. A black pencil skirt and a white blouse were covered by a beige coat with wide shoulders the drooped over her frame, a handbag, too small to contain any of the guns Merlin knew she favored was clutched in her hands and a shock of red rouge on her lips.

"Ana gayya?" Merlin repeated what he had heard from behind the door only a few moments before and managed to bring some color to her pail cheeks.

"Arabic, I mean- It means 'I'm coming' in Arabic. Old habits, I guess." She shrugged. It clicked in Merlin's head, the hijab too, and he was suddenly embarrassed he had mentioned it at all. She was oddly closed lipped about her mission, and spoke only little of her mentor. He tried thinking of ways to get his foot out of his mouth when-

"Merlin, we should move." Elyan said suddenly, grabbing the small suit case that had stood next to the door innocently and the little dog that had looked at them from the sofa hopped over to her, as if understanding she was leaving.

Merlin opened the door as she pet Mort's head lovingly, telling him someone will be there shortly for him. It was endearing to watch, and Merlin looked away: he felt enough of an intruder already. He notices that her personal phone is left abandoned on the sofa,but doesn't mention it.

The cabbie is still waiting at the end of the street, looking at the agents as they approach, the engine still running, as was custom with Kingsman's cabs. You can't know If the agent will come back running or walking calmly, but sometime both scenarios will demand a quick exit.

Merlin enters the back seat quietly, followed by Elyan, who slipped onto the seat next to him, smiling and nodding her head toward the cabbie, intoning a silent 'hello'. The cabbie looks at her from the mirror his eyes crinkle slightly and a smile stretches his lips slightly.

"Where to, my lady, sir?" He asks and Merlin speaks the direction, without further adieu they speed through the busy streets of London.

* * *

The shot narrowly misses her head and Elyan does not hesitate when she pulls the trigger, one time, two time, three times, each bullets bury deeply into gut and brains, breaking bone and cutting off screams.

The air is heavy with shouts, adrenaline and the sour stench of sweat and unwashed bodies. Blood and viscera join the nauseating concoction soon enough, and the small part of Elyan still registering what she was smelling and tasting bundle off to a far corner of her head.

The 'small' intell investigation they had been sent to do had turned into free falling into a pit of vipers. The terrorists cell, that according to their intelligence reports was supposed to be a dormant industrial bakery, was lively and kicking.

She grimaced as the last bullet in her cartridge shot out of the Glock and shattered a man's knee. He came down screaming, his hand opening involuntarily, dropping a gun, cursing her forefathers before a well aimed kicked resulted in his temporary silence. The pain that shot through her leg told her she must have broken his aw. She quickly replaced her empty cartridge, throwing the empty one onto her pack, now dotted red, and loaded the first bullet in with the easy snap of the gun. She made the rounds quickly, confirming their deaths with the sure stroke of her finger on the trigger.

Her Arctic warfare had turned to be a moot choice since as soon as she had established her station the roof she had camped on was swarmed with a bunch of wild men. Galahad had sent the distress signal a few minutes ago, and after the first shots and the initial frightened screams from several passersby on the street, she felt her wristwatch vibrating slightly to inform her she was to assume position at the earliest convenience.

Which was now.

Her eye soon glued to newly upgraded sight she sent a quick hand to an ornate brooch on the lapel of her coat and to her dangling earrings, pressing the right one. Her ears were flooded with the sounds of violence.

"Galahad, I'm in position" She said, speaking in the general direction of the brooch, hoping the amidst the clamor he'd hear her, and know she had his back. There was no reaction but a vague grunt. She lay prone on the ground, not minding she was ruining her disguise. The black pencil skirt was already ruined, after she had ripped the seams open in order to move freely. The men had been surprised at first when the lady perching on their roof lay down the sniper's rifle and pulled out a gun. They had been less amused when the bullets fell and the bones started breaking, the silence that resided on the roof top now was a proof that shooting a dog as final test had been a tell tale choice of whom the agency was looking for. The look Mort had given her would never be erased from her memory.

Despite her initial lack of remorse, her _current_ lack of remorse she reminded herself, there was a bitter taste in her mouth. This was not the work she had anticipated as a trainee. The blood from a graze wound on her upper thigh trickled warmly, maddeningly down her leg.

A window broke suddenly, and out of it a man was thrown, his hands flailing until he hit the curb headfirst. There was no movement to be seen, and it was not seen as Elyan's eyes were on the window. Someone was moving inside, she couldn't tell who but the motions looked odd. Her gut told her who it was and she took the shot. The man fell down without much ceremony, revealing Galahad, who immediately plastered himself to a nearby wall, out of Elyan's sight.

Her wristwatch buzzed and soon after Galahad's exhausted voice broke the silence.

"That was much appreciated, Elyan."

"Suspicious movement in the room to your left. Stand down until conformation."

She vaguely registered his reply as she scanned the room. She hoped it was Merlin, maybe a bit banged up and worse for ware but alive. No responses came from him for the last fifteen minutes since they had split. Galahad went up the building and Merlin had went down, she had settled with her AK before interrupted soon after.

She was disappointed when she had to pull the trigger, shattering a window and putting another man down. A bullet whizzed above her not a second after.

"They are on me, three more on your left, go."

Elyan shifted slightly to avoid the bullets whizzing past her, meanwhile, with a fluid movement Galahad kicked open the door and took the shot before the wood had even hit the wall. The second shot he took after the man missed his head, the bullet lodging into the wall behind him. He barely missed a spray of shrapnel as he dropped onto his knee agile as a cat, pulling the trigger. The bullet passed through the mans jaw, out of his head and into the ceiling, shuttering the lamp, bathing Galahad in darkness.

Elyan could hear Galahad bark a single curse word she had never imagined leaving his mouth before the sound of struggle reached her ears. The room was illuminated by a single shot fired and silence fell. It stretched for eternity, the room too dark for her to see what had happened, her earphone silent as a grave. The sight dug into her cheekbone until she was sure it would bruise, waiting, searching.

Then the pant came.

"Threw the gun at me, took me to the floor, that poltroon." Galahad muttered to her and Elyan let out a relieved sigh.

"Area clear from my position." She said, back to business "I can't see where Merlin is. I think I'm out of his range. Do you have what we came for?"

"A moment, if you'd please." He excuses himself and disappears from Elyan's sight for the second time. She can hear him shuffling through the wreckage of the office he had just thrashed. The bakery had been on the agency's hot list for a few weeks now since it's discovery. A potential lead, they had thought, not a thing to get excited over. Well, as soon as this hits the media there was about to be a storm of epic proportions.

"Found something-"

His message was cut off by a very loud, very abrupt intersection of Merlin spouting some of the foulest language Elyan had ever heard. Her eyes bore down within a heartbeat, spotting him emerging back at the front counter. He had a bleeding scalp wound that drenched the side of his face red. It was more gruesome looking then it was probably life threatening, but Elyan's stomach clenched none the less. She liked Merlin, and his face told her they'd be evacuating soon.

"GALAHAD, GET YOUR ARSE OUT OF HERE, THIS PLACE IS TRAPPED!" Merlin screams in Elyan's ear, as he bursts out of the building. Not bothering to hide as the street was empty, the passersby have fled long before.

Her gaze shot up so fast, that at first she couldn't quite catch where Galahad was running. He broke into a run, speeding through the corridors like a mad man, until he was out of Elyan's sight.

The only thing she heard was labored breaths as Merlin's mingled with Galahad's.

"Elyan," Merlin barked through the radio, "Report."

"Breaking station." She barked back as she was hurriedly stuffing he Ak, the cartridges and the fallen guns into a duffel bag that had waited her in the cab Galahad had arrived in.

Without warning Elyan was knocked onto her face, as a wave of unbearable heat washed over her. She registered that her ears were ringing when a stray voice came to her ears. Her body hurt, and she felt new cuts and bruises forming. She turned back towards the bakery. She should have known the moment she had been knocked on her teeth, when the rooftop she had perched on was washed with the bright lights of fire and destruction, none the less, the hollow fear that emptied her gut felt just as horrifying and distressing as it would have been if she had seen the explosion the moment it happened.

Her hand latched on the bag, and she walked, disoriented to a the large metal box of the main air-conditioning of the building. She opened it without much trouble and stuffed the bag inside, hiding it deep, the darkness of the metal box removing traces of the black bag inside.

Someone was talking to her, and sirens were blaring in the background, the wails stretching over the city.

"GALAHAD!" Someone shouted in her ear. She thought he had shouted the name 'Harry' but didn't pay it attention as Galahad's voice came on, exhausted but alive.

"In one piece, on foot, heading south, it's time to go home." He said shortly and his communicator was turned off.

"Elyan," the voice of Merlin said, no longer with the edge of panic in his voice, "police are near."

"Don't wait, I'll slip through."

His grunt was mostly recognition as she heard him enter a stray cab. His radio went off line too.

She was off the building and down on the street in a minute. Her her skirt torn, her hair in a disarray and filth and blood dotted her clothing mainly from the wound in her leg. Her shoulders dropped, and her limp became more pronounce as the police car pulled up next to the wreckage site. Car after car arrived, spilling bemused policeman onto the street.

"Miss, I'm going to have t-" Said one of them, approaching her from behind.

Elyan broke into tears, her make up running, she clutched the policeman's shoulders as she spun herself into a fully blown hysterics. She tried talking, stumbling over words, seeing how bit by bit the man was growing uncomfortable and annoyed, forgetting all about what he had initially wanted to ask her.

To his credit he tried to calm her down, to which she had doubled her tears and stammered words of thanks as he lowered her onto the stairs of a building, telling her to catch her breath. The sirens of ambulances tore his attention off of her, and them moment he moved away from her, sure the frightened lady was too distraught to move anywhere.

He was wrong of course, and not a heartbeat after she was gone.

* * *

The last thing Elyan was expecting when she came back to her apartment was the nagging feeling it wasn't empty.

She had returned to the shop shortly after slipping away from the officer. She made sue to clean her face and clothes a bit before walking in any of the main roads, not wishing to cause alarm. She stepped into a telephone booth smoothly, calling the shop and saying the right code for a cab to be sent her direction.

She entered by the back exit, apparently as Merlin and Galahad had, going straight to the infirmary underground. Merlin's bleeding scalp wound had been cleaned and bound, lucky for no stitches has been applied. Galahad was less lucky. His suit was in tatters, scorched here and there, but mostly the smell had repulsed her. He had jumped from the second story into a large open trash bin. He must have landed on a juicy one, but she refrained from pointing it out as They were all in a sorry state and most definitely not in the mood. She'd save it for later.

Between the three of them there were no injuries the nurse on duty couldn't take care off, and Elyan's wound had too been cleaned and bound. They had decided the resulting meeting would take place on a different day, at a different time, not that day.

It was noon by the time Elyan dropped her bag, her Glock in her hands, because _there was someone in her house_. Today of all days. Who could have possibly reached her? Who could have possibly found her, and for what reason?

A thought of Mort passed through her mind and something heavy and horrible settled over her. If something happened to her little pointer she'd-

She let the thought go and opened the door lightly, the oiled hinges making no sound as she slid inside her apartment, gun at hand. Mort is on the couch completely at ease,tail thumping on the yellow blanket she had left thoughtlessly on the couch.

He was too at ease, but Elyan kept her gun at hand. In the kitchen the lights were on and the sound of water pouring into cups hummed in the warm air.

"I would have shot you." She says, deadpanning as she enters the kitchen, finding exactly who she did not believe to find.

He stood there as if nothing was wrong, turning his head towards her as she put her gun down on the dining table, sending her a cheeky grin that melted into something different when she met his eyes. He looked thinner somehow, wispier, but his eyes were the same. As was the cup of tea he handed her that smelled strongly not of tea. But she was not in the mood for niceties and games. The tea sat back on the counter as she circled her arms around him, and buried her head in his neck. It was almost easy being engulfed into the warmth of his body and into the smell of his skin. It was easy like breathing, like flexing a muscle you never though of, like coming back home. Bors had been that home for the last year (and a half if she would be completely honest).

"It's a good thing you didn't." He says after a while.

She hummes in return, questioning, hating to break out of her silence.

"It took me forever to sneak past the nurses."

She may have laughed another day, but she is exhausted and the separation she was now coming to realized was forced, had left her humor dry.

They have tea eventually, and they talk. She tells him about the bakery in detail and about the other two months he had missed of her life. She is not bothered they all revolve around work. It's easier then delving deeper into things that should ave been put to rest a year ago.

She looks at his face too long without saying a thing, he does the same. They don't kiss. They never did. That would mean that whatever this was needed a name, or a tag, or an explanation and they agree silently they don't want that now, but when he takes her hands in his own it comes close.

He sleeps on the couch when she takes too long to answer if he should go home, and she settles in her own bed in awful sweatpants and a tank top only he ever saw her wear. Before she falls asleep something small in her wishes the pillow she was holding would have been on the couch instead. But those were the nature of Elyan's wishes, they often never came true.

* * *

**A/N-** OK. I am official out of the army, I have a new job (which is sucking me dry, but _hey_ iv'e got some money now). The response to the first chapter has been really encouraging! Thank you to EVERYONE who had shared thoughts, reviewed, favored followed or has generally read this.

It means a great deal to me.

Please review again! I wish to know what you think as I am not completely satisfied.

I know most of the plot in my head and the major twist and such, and I expect some plot next chapter (exciting?).

I hope the action was well, right now the missions are more manual then actual _James Bond-ish_ stuff. But the killings may stop soon and interesting stuff may prevails!

I WILL BE THRILLED IF YOU SEND ME KINGSMAN HEADCANNON'S if you have them.

Until next time,

**-Trogmorten.**

(Who is looking for a beta.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Kingsman the secret service- origins**

Merlin Wyllt- Elyan the white- Galahad

(Chapter three)

She wakes up with a start, disoriented, feeling the skin of her cheek letting go of the shoulder she had rested against reluctantly. She stretches cramped limbs with a repressed groan, her heel clad feet twisting under the seat in front of her.

God, she hated airplanes, the taste of stale peanuts still lingered on her tongue, Elyan scrunches her face. In the back of the plane, a baby starts to wail and she sighs wearily, pointedly ignoring the man snickering in the seat next to her.

"Shut up." she murmurs into her plastic cup, sipping the tepid water like they had offended her somehow.

"Woke up on the wrong side?" Merlin smiles, dressed in a shockingly suburban outfit.

"Worse, woke up on a plane."

"I like planes." He states.

"It's a rickety metal bucket someone flung through the air, what's to like?"

"The meals." He says, lifting up a cup of red jell-o making the wobbly top do a little dance.

Merlin exhales loudly, smiling a toothy smile and waggling his eyebrows as he lowers his voice to a whisper. "Considering you have jumped from these metal buckets on countless occasions, I find it hard to believe that sitting in one will be much of a challenge."

Her head flops to his direction with a thump and she sends him a dirty glare.

"my ass can't take eleven and a half hours of this chair," Elyan huffs and opens the plastic blinds over the tiny window, bathing them both in bright light. "I can never fall asleep here. Too much noise."

"My shoulder begs to differ."

Elyan huffs, half a yawn half a laugh, and leans back down on said shoulder, making herself comfortable. Merlin's hand sneaks to grab her own, dragging it to rest on his knee, pressing his cheek to her hair affectionately. Elyan burrowed into the touch, the small part of her that was ' ' was thrilled, the other part of her was politely detached, going through the mission details one more time.

"Frank, would you be a dear and buy me a soda?" She asks sweetly, and Merlin laughed, rising up to approach the flight attendant in a pair of jeans that would have brought Galahad to tears. It contoured his ass in a way Elyan would never admit to thinking about and would never confess to the man. He turned and gave her a look, he seemed to know. Elyan looked out of the window, her chin resting in the palm of her had.

A sunny morning drift in her head, vivid and clear. There is a man tangled in a yellow blanket on the sofa, his ragtag sweatpants riding low on his hips, on leg dangling drunkenly over the floor, flirting with the cold tiles. Elyan makes coffee for a change, not bothering with anything fancy as she melts some instant stuff she found in the cabinet. She stares as the milk swirls into the dark liquid, something terrible and heavy sitting in the pit of her stomach as she hears the man stir, scratching his midriff absently and falling back to sleep.

She breathes deeply, it was a wonder he could sleep so soundly and so heavily. She wonders how he managed to get his beauty sleep during exams, and a smile breaks the bleak mask that had dried over her features. She remembers dressing in a familiar suit, getting out of the apartment and getting into the agency cab already waiting for her by the sidewalk.

He'd wake up to find an empty apartment, a cold bed, stale coffee and wouldn't bat an eye over it, a part of her couldn't feel the smallest bit of resentment creeping into her veins. They had gone through this ritual so many times leaving him alone in the apartment was as easy as pulling a trigger.

Merlin sat back down next to her with a huff, handing her a can of cola, popping another can with an easy, fluid move, taking a deep swig. He licked his lip thoughtfully, giving the red can a speculative look as Elyan popped her own open.

"And to think our _friend_ is having a nice shrimp cocktail and a kip at first class." Merlin says between sips and stretching his legs in the small confinement of their seats.

"I never knew he was into those." Elyan says without thinking.

"Kips?"

"Shrimps."

"Oh. Well, why wouldn't he?" Merlin said, sounding slightly bemused.

"I always had a feeling he's Jewish, no? He has a..jew-ish air about him?" She stops when she hears Merlin give a strangled snort, "Is that even politically correct to say?"

"Definitely not." Merlin sputters as he tries to reign his laughter in.

Elyan stifles a smile, trying to give a disarming smile to the Korean teen sitting in the seat next to the aisle, giving them an annoyed look for interrupting whatever it is he was doing. Merlin gives him a quick look, mumbling an apologized 'joesonghabnida' with the most poignant British accent he could muster. The teen made a face and touched the headphones glued to his ears superstitiously, while Merlin gave Elyan a look.

"I don't really know much about either of you," She says after a moment, "Aside from your skills and faults."

"Faults?" Merlin says, sounding affronted while Elyan nods almost sagely.

"When you take M-" She lowers her voice over the din of the airplane and Merlin shuffles a bit to hear her, "-My AW, you don't press it enough into the crook of your shoulder, it throws off your aim by a few centimeters. My Ma used to say that you should handle your long ranged like a third limb, unless you want it to fuck over your shoulder."

He gives her a poker face, but she recognizes the slight pinch in his nose and the line of his lips, and hastes to add, "But no one can hack like you, and last week when you flipped that knife on me, I swear I had no idea where you pulled it fro-"

Merlin, who had started laughing quietly as she spoke pushed her head lightly with his large hand, ruffling her hair in the process, unresponsive at her indignant 'hey! It's just curiosity!'.

"You don't need to pet my ego, Jean, darling," He says, and adds with a mock flirtatious smile, low enough that only she can hear, "When were back, you can take me out for coffee, and I'll tell you all about it." Another well aimed brow waggle send her into a fit of giggles she probably would have been ashamed of if Merlin wouldn't have joined her, sending a breathy 'joesonghabnida' to the tormented Korean teen.

They relax after a while, settling comfortably in their seats, the flight stretching on and the hours melting into a confusing scramble. The fight attendant gives them a grimace disguised as a smile as they politely refuse to buy any duty-free merchandise, she looks tired too, and Elyan pities her a bit as she pushed the heavy cart up ahead.

She looks at Merlin who had fallen asleep at some point, his mouth hanging slightly open, his brow completely relaxed, and thought that maybe her pessimism had been unjustified because she had a friend sleeping next to her, and against all odds another friend enjoying the luxury seats of first class tickets.

Friends she knew near to nothing about, least of all their names.

She forcibly stopped her train of thoughts as they veered to the third friend she was pointedly not thinking about. It was a start, friends, partners, people she could trust.

It was a start.

Elyan closes the thick drapes with a swish, her high heels discarded neatly by the door as she pulls a small bag from her suitcase. Merlin is sitting on the bed with his legs intertwined, a dozen small parts are strewn on the top cover, he pics one with care, scans it and wipes it with a small rag. Two small ear buds are stuck in his ears and she hears feint music drifting from it. She leaves him to his devices and shuts herself in the bathroom.

Out of the small bag she takes a soft wipe, and starts cleaning her face with care. It's a relief to wipe Jean Lester off her face, cheap makeup and lipstick coming off faster then she had discarded the blond wig. She works thoroughly as she she takes time to calm the buzzing bee flying frantically in her heart. She sheds Jean's clothes too, wearing underwear made out of something soft and pretty under a dress shamelessly short. A white apron comes over it later, and as she tugs it down irritably she wonders how the hell she was supposed to bring a knife along least of all her Glock. Expensive makeup covers the tiredness from beneath her eyes, accents her cheekbones and enlarges her eyes. She looks at the mirror and can't help but feel 'job well done'. She can't recognize the sexy twenty something escort girl staring back at her from the mirror, legs a mile long with a pair of outrageous high heels strapped on as she hastily combs her hair until it shines in a dark wave down her back.

She is uncomfortable and tired, sleep came reluctantly the last three days Mr and Mrs Lester stayed in their above-salary rooms, enjoying the many perks of a seemingly once in a life time trip to Korea, rather vocally, like any happy newly-weds should be.

Merlin had spied the target fifteen minutes into their stay, as they were waiting for the receptionist to process them. He whispered it in her ear as he kissed her cheek for the third time to make the receptionist uncomfortable. She had taken a cautious glimpse at him as she pulled her luggage after Merlin and into the fancy elevator, exclaiming with awe at the large mirrors the covered the interior.

Other then the fact he was fat the man was as nondescript in person as his photos had suggested. Middle aged and slightly graying around the temples, he looked around him with the slight contempt reserved to people thinking they are entitled to the full attention of their peers. He never noticed the Lesters as they ate dinner in a table next to his or as they passed him in the corridor as he entered his room. He failed to notice Mr Lester as he drank his scotch quietly as he eaves dropped to his meeting with another identified suspect, Or Mrs Lester as she scanned a tourist map of the surrounding area as he was having an important call from the office.

All in all, Mr Sasohan was oblivious to the close attention of the couple or their vast knowledge of his business in day and at night, hence the tiny outfit and the scowl on the face of one Elyan in a small bathroom three floors beneath him.

This was not different from any other mission she had ever done, she thought viciously as she crushed the bee that had buzzed through her. She left the bathroom with one last tug at the small dress, her heels clicking with every step as she tried to shake Elyan off of her and be someone else, someone comfortable with these garments.

Merlin was still cleaning, even though he had passed off to a large, long ranged beauty, his head nodding with the beat of the music in his ears, plucking one ear bud out of his ear as he sensed her approaching. He looked up almost casually, his hands cleaning a part mechanically as a weird expression settled over his face.

"This is uncomfortable." Elyan says, her face pinches until her mouth is a thin line.

He nods.

"Where the hell am I supposed to put my Glock?"

"Tough question."

"it's not even a dress!" She fumes, "It's a fucking baby doll!" She is not sorry for cursing.

"I'll take your word for it, and you hardly need your Glock in such close confinement."

"I know," She bites back, "That's not my point." She tugs her dress into place once more, giving Merlin a pointed look. He was right, and she didn't care, let him dress in a teeny tiny thing like this and waltz outside. She picked her long coat as Merlin slid off the bed, gearing up and sliding the ear bud into his ear.

"Galahad is in position."

"Good for him."

He ignores her irritation and discomfort and comes to attach a small silver pin to her coat.

"You know what to shout in case of intervention. You have Galahad out the window on the roof, and I'll be out at the corridor."

She nods as she loads her gun with a swift movement, sticking the small gun into a small hidden pocket under the shoulder of her coat. She shifts uncomfortably once, touching her dress once more superstitiously before tying her coat to cover herself. She takes a deep breath, flings her hair over her shoulder in a fluid movement and leaves the room without further adieu.

It's cold and dreary now with the window opened. Galahad had closed the lights before dragging the large rifle from its hiding spot, put a 'Do not disturb' on the door knob and folded his sleeves up to his elbows. The Barrett M82 sits comfortable in his hands, his cheek pressed to the familiar stock. He settles in place, only to curse as his elbow hits the bowl he had set aside for the bullet shells, if the situation ever calls for them, that is. He rearranges the wet rag in the bowl and falls into position.

He taps the small knob on the watch at his wrist and says in a crisp clear voice, "I am positioned, ready to go." His eye sinks to the sight on his Barrett, He hears Merlin's replay and starts scoping the near buildings for any tell-tale signs. He has about four or five minutes until Elyan will be in position and and a sour feeling in his stomach he has absolutely no time for.

They were sitting on something big, something terrifyingly vague, like a monster with many heads. The months of intell gathering had brought them along so far, but it was inadequate and far fetched to send them all the way out here for something with brittle evidence. Galahad couldn't help but frown. This wasn't all about whatever terrorist cell that may or may not exist in seemingly welcoming and dormant Korea, this smells rank, it feels political, and it chafes him.

Guinevere's long fingers were all over this assignment, disregarding their skills and sending the three of them, three! On a mission Bors had his name written all over, except the man wasn't here, his protege was.

In an exceptionally small outfit, Fancy that. Galahad's eyebrows lifts in silent appreciation as his breaths even out into the controlled lull of concentration and familiarity. His heart thuds slowly in his ears. He doesn't move a muscle.

The windows to Sasohan's room are clear, the curtains swept aside and tied off. The room has barely been touched since room service wiped clean any evidence he had a girl come every night, least of all any evidence the girl usually left three hours later, walking quickly and quietly out of he hotel, never appearing twice.

Galahad's lips thinned into a firm line, and his heart beat sounded louder. He took a deliberate breath.

He was floating in a void, the anger and disgust that floated outside his resounding calmness belonged to someone else while his eye was on the sight and his finger on the trigger.

He can see Elyan float in like a mirage while Sasohan dumps her coat on one of the small sofa's without much thought. She moves differently, walking around and turning with her shoulders first, like a wave. It makes her look sleek, it makes her outfit look in place, had he really been surprised when she had entered?

She seems to be talking a dozen words a second, and her endless torrent flows in Galahad's ears in a hypnotizing river of nonsense. She is the only one to talk and really, she says nothing at all, she shuts up for exactly one moment when Sasohan grabs her arm and fingers the material of her dress. She bats his advances playfully and asks him questions with a wondering air, like the bleating of an innocent lamb.

And the fool talks back. With every answer she receives she lets his hands wander further, wander over, and wander under. Embarrassment floats like a thick layer of glistening oil over the calmness of his void as the graying man takes the small dress off, and as he pulls her toward the bed that is partially out of the view of his scope.

The woman he had known these few months now consists of a pair of long legs in heels and a constant murmur in his ear. She prods Sasohan's ego and riles him in the right places like an expert. He doesn't realize the thing he blurts the moment she grabs him, he is apparently too engrossed in things outside of Galahad's range. Conformation, target achieved.

He hears Merlin make a small choked up noise over the transmission. He is suddenly sort of glad he was out there, hearing yet blind. It was better for some reason, that he doesn't see her. There is a flash of something silver, and the warning is out of Galahad's mouth before his mind registers what he was seeing.

There is a sudden hiss of pain over the transition, and for a moment Galahad's void shakes powerfully. Elyan stops talking at once. A heart beat thuds away and he can hear her angry shout.

"You want to see a magic trick?" She hisses.

Galahad's finger is on the trigger, his blood rushing in his ears as he awaits his command. He sees her tumble of the bed awkwardly, both her hands cuffed to the bed frame, Sasohan held firmly by her thighs. He doesn't manage to utter a confused 'Huh?' before she drops her accent and mannerism.

"I'm practically Harry fucking Houdini!" He hears her grin as her legs move with speed and agility as She pushes him offer with one decisive move of her pelvis. Sasohan hits the floor with a thump, and a curse, as Elyan's hands are tugged viciously by the hand cuffs. She grunts and yanks her hands out the cuff with a rattle, her wrists are bloodied. The broken cuffs dangle from her left wrist.

"Tada!" She Lashes one long leg out like a viper striking its prey, catching frightened Sasohan in the throat. He makes a strangled gurgle, his hands flying to grappled at his damaged throat, there is blood on Elyan's heel. She gives an angry pant before the door slams open and Merlin enters the room, his breathings are audible over the transmission. He strides in like an angry cat, his pistol doesn't waver for a moment as it stays trained on the wheezing man, his eyes track Elyan as she moves to the small sofa, grabbing her coat, pointing her Coult on the man with an angry glare.

"G, stage two." Merlin orders over the transmission, and Galahad starts dismantling his Barrett before his mind follows suit and the void dissipates into memory. He leaves the transmitter in his ear as he puts the Barrett back in it's places and hides it. He leaves the room with the strut of an unhurried man, the receptionist at her desk gives him a little nods of respect and recognition, he was, after all, a highly paying customer.

He walks around the block once, entering the hotel on the other side of the street without a hitch. The man who enters the elevator is blond, his eyes are green, his short beard is slightly ginger in places. He holds an umbrella in a clenched hand and a small briefcase in the other.

He doesn't look too happy.

Merlin is in another room, supervising the bound and gagged Sasohan, Galahad is in the bedroom, talking to Frank over in intelligence over the encrypted phone and Elyan is sitting back In the bathroom he head between her knees and the door locked.

She breaths mechanically, listening to Galahad's voice getting clearer as he paces in front of the closed door, and back. He walks back and forth his tone clipped. They had been gravely misinformed, dangerously so.

Sasohan, the colleague of one accountant back at home, were laundering money, ridiculous sums of money. They had been efficient, clever even, as they spread their network over two known countries and in countless businesses, gathering up money in non existent companies, and for what?

Al Phauda al mythally.

The perfect chaos.

The name sent sharp shivers over her skin. It wasn't just _a_ terrorist cell, it was _the _terrorist cell. It made horrible sense, and a horrible reminder. Mecca. The death, the threats, the screamed out promises of blood, of revenge, of Jihad. They needed reinforcement, they needed to call the Mossad, they needed- she needed-

She took a deep breath.

Al Phauda were supposed to be contained, dormant, struggling with finances -not anymore, clearly- what were they doing popping up like warts in Seoul?

Galahad's voice was getting sharper and vaguer as he stopped in place, trading sharp words with Frank. Poor Frank.

Fuck Frank, fuck Guinevere.

Elyan touched her wrists gingerly, her face scrunching up at the sting as she pressed a small alcohol pad over the long cuts. It wasn't one of her smartest moments, she admitted bitterly to herself, but panic had seized her so powerfully when he had let slip the name, the forces warring behind the scenes that the empty minded escort girl ran out of her head without a trace. In her place came the cold rage and fear that had sent her leg like a snapping whip at the man.

He was as responsible for every death in Mecca as were any of the frantic, blood thirsty murderers who had clutched guns and death in the hands.

Fatigue weighed her down as her thought led her to stare at her reflection dully. She closed her eyes.

Time must have passed because she opened her eyes with a start when a soft knock came from the door and Merlin tried to get in.

"Elyan, are you okay in there?"

She failed to answer as she hastened to cover herself, not that it mattered, they had already seen her down to her fancy knickers.

"Elyan, let me in."

She opened the door, and for a minute he was someone else. He entered the small room and closed the door after himself, the apartment was quiet, Galahad must have gone while she didn't pay attention.

"Sasohan?"

"Galahad is taking him back."

"What?" She turned her head to look at him. They had sent Galahad away?

"Management insisted." He says, there is a touch of bitterness in his voice, "He'll be back after he processes him."

"So not for another day or two." Elyan stated.

Merlin dropped his head to his hands, he looked as tired as she felt. She made no motion to rise and he looked at her. The edge of the tub Elyan had been sitting on for god knows how much time started to get uncomfortable, at least it wasn't cold. Merlin's thigh touched her own, his body heat radiating over the AC induced chill the hotel enforced rigorously.

"Tea?" She says. It's the casual thing to say, the easiest place to fall back to, like home and disgusting tea with not much tea in it, and someone who was not even in the room.

"I'd kill for something stronger." he says.

"Shitty mini bar it is then." She says, and doesn't move a muscle. He exhales loudly and smiles.

"I never knew you cursed so much." he says, and the twinkle in his eyes softened her reply.

"I'm entitled to it, once in a blue moon." He doesn't move neither.

They don't talk after that, even though they both feel they should. The words are on the tip of their tongues. He wants to say he's sorry, that if he could take away the hands that had touched her he would. She want's to say he can't, that it's not important, that he was overstepping.

But they don't.

In the end they don't drink anything. He collapses on the couch, she on the bed, they don't bother to change because the Lesters were not in the apartment that evening. Despite Merlin's best efforts to stay awake until she falls asleep, to ward away the darkness creeping into her room, she is the last to succumb to the fatigue.

In her distraught dream someone is sliding his hand up her ribs.

**A\N**\- Sorry for the long wait. I have a clear path of the things that have to happen in this story, we will get to the main events soon, and their consequences later.

Please tell me what you thought!

I swear I wrote most of this in one sitting. (how fun is it to search about guns and magicians in two in the bloody morning?) Suggestions will be WELCOME. (srsly, I want to hear you guys!"

Thank you to everyone who took time to review, like and follow!

You brighten mu day! (and flatter the shit out of me.)

-Trogmorten.

(I don't have a clear voice for Harry\Galahad in my head yet, and I think it's a major problem, if anyone wants to help, I'll be more than grateful. )

(P.S- anyone here hears BIGBANG? Aren't they freaking awesome?)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

Elyan the White, Melrin

Elyan had woken up in the morning with an aching sense of absence. She takes a long while to gather enough will to dangle her legs out the warmth of her bed, wishing she had the privilege of staying in late.

Fifteen minuted later she finds Merlin already dressed and at the small coffee table, he sips a cuppa evenly, with an air of collected calm about him. He is wearing Mr. Lester's cloths and the wrongness of it chafes her for a moment. She has an urge to dress him in the soft jumpers and sweaters he had a secret fondness of, with a sensible, crisp pair of pants and that particular glint in his eyes that shows he has something clever brewing in his head.

He looks tired when he looks at her, and she notices the soft- spider web like lines at the sides of his eyes. He looks older some how. She walks past him, her hair falling into her eyes as she shies away from him.

Mr. Lester would have probably put his arm around his wife, maybe kissing her good morning, making up for a night of separation, asked her what was wrong. Merlin stays silent and gives her a wide breath, Elyan ponders for a moment if Bors would have acted the same.

She banishes the thought to the back of her mind, momentarily angry at herself. They were deep enough in the mud for her to conflict her feeling further. She almost laughed when she realized bitterly she couldn't tell whether she was thinking about the mission or about the man.

"Any word from headquarters?" She asks, breaking a tentative silence.

Merlin twitches as if roused from deep sleep, his eyes traveling up to meet her's almost guiltily. He stays silent for a moment, and she thinks he is contemplating about softening the truth.

"Galahad is being delayed, the interrogation has met some difficulties."

"Such as?" She asks, an eyebrow cocking up a tad more sharply then strictly necessary.

"Guinevere and Arthur are having a disagreement about the methods of... persuasion needed."

"I have always thought Galahad was persuasive enough."

"If not him, they can hand him over to Bors or to the interrogators at 'lake', they are plenty persuasive," Merlin pauses for a moment, "He triggered several intelligence leads that had been cold, waiting for a while, Percival is going a little mad in Berlin." There is a slight turn of his lips there, but it dissipates soon enough.

Elyan sighs deeply, putting her own cup of lukewarm tea down on the small wooden table, Merlin's cup soon follows.

"There have been some disagreements around the intelligence community," He says," Some say Yassar Araffat may recognize Israel as an independent country."

Elyan's eyebrows rise skeptically, and Merlin clears his throat after taking a thoughtful sip. "It's all heresy, but the sides supporting such notions are very steadfast in their beliefs. The Mossad has been on edge since the first contemplations of such things have started."

A small smile breaks through Elyan's dreary mood, "When is the Mossad not on edge?"

"True," Merlin provides with a mirrored smile, but he sobers up quickly, "Araffat's people have been silent as a grave, and they are usually anything but. I heard one of his relatives got caught up in Mecca."

"Sa'eed Araffat."

"What?"

"I was there, I was monitoring a Saudi arms company who got on the wrong side of HQ's monitors. I mean, Bors was, I was sent there some time after, to maintain his cover," She felt herself suddenly embarrassed, "Sa'eed he was a friend of the CEO, very close, they grew together in Syria. He barely met Yassar in his life, he was a part of the hammula, but they have never talked."

'I have known him', She thought bleakly for a moment as Merlin gave her a strange look.

"He was a kind man, gentle in a way." She blurted.

"Oh." Was all Merlin had managed to utter at her remark. The picture of his split head, through her rifle's sight still made her shudder. She remembers his blood had sputtered all over his white shirt, soaking into his galabiya. He looked eerily peaceful.

Elyan blinks forcefully.

"Do you think it might happen?" She asks only to replace the taste of stray memories from her mouth. Merlin rubs his chin thoughtfully, accepting the sharp turn-back in conversation.

"I doubt it, there is too much hate there to lead to anything but more bloodshed." he concludes, and she hums.

She rises from her seat, head cluttered with far away disputes and echos of a smiling man, walking toward the bedroom once again. She hears the silence settle over Merlin as the gears in his head whirr into life with renewed force.

Elyan exits the bedroom sometime later, waking Merlin out of his spinning thoughts with a hesitant hand on his shoulder. His eyes follow her bound wrists for a moment too long and she takes her hand off hastily.

"I'm fine." She says, her voice denying any protest he may have had. She clanks two large, gangly bracelets over her thin wrists, and he watch as her neat white bandages disappear beneath gaudy plastic. She takes up a purse and a pair of sunglasses and somehow her misery is glossed over by her unwavering determination.

Merlin rises swiftly, she had her head in the game, and for both of their sake's and for whatever was bound to unfold in this unorganized mess of an operation, so should he. They don't pack much but small things that look normal and uninteresting enough to gloss over their arms and ammunition. They smile lovingly at each other as they lie smoothly to the receptionist, asking their room to be left alone, as they go out to explore the city.

* * *

They sit in a sunny coffee shop outside when Merlin's small phone buzz, he checks it under the rim of the table, out of the eyes of the wandering masses. She looks at him intently, the long elegant leg that rests against his under the table tenses for a moment, questioning as she takes a bored sip of her awful coffee. The tips of his toes brush up to meet the dip of her ankle in an answer, drawing away slowly. She puts down her cup calmly, and asks for the bill.

two hours later, clutching a dislocated shoulder and breathing through a nose that was probably broken he wonders how he could have though thing would have ended differently.

The building is almost as simple and uninteresting as the rest of the buildings in the row. There are a couple of cats in a dumpster under high industrial windows and a large moveable tin door hiding a truck bay. There are casual movements throughout building, workers unloading packages of frozen goods into large, built in freezers located in the back of the buildings. It looks innocent enough to fool the workers above, who move in the sort of meek obedience dictated by routine.

The text Merlin had received is utilitarian and to the point, so undeniably from Galahad that Merlin can imagine the thin mask of civility masking his annoyance as he wrote, the address and that he had been grounded.

* * *

Elyan can feel his mood as she get ready, crouching atop a building two streets over, she remains silent, and Merlin suddenly wishes she'd say anything, just to let him know there is something more then frighting capability behind her eyes, even the barest shred of annoyance to show that they share his confusion and anger.

Her mouth remains pursed and Merlin feels a the calmness of concentration settle over him like a thick blanket as he takes her lead; all feelings shoved to the side. The cool edge of a knife is resting at his calf and a small collapsible baton at the small of his back. His gun lays inside a tool box, silencer firmly in place, currently out of sight and reach.

Elyan helps him take off any sign of Mr. Lester and instead she dusts him with powder that makes his skin looks older, a pair of thick rimmed glasses to distort the shape of his eyes, a full-body suit of cheap flapping plastic, a pair of industrial gloves that makes him look out of place on the roof but at home next to four big freezers and the workers.

She hesitates a moment before she puts the blue mask over his lips and nose, clinching the small metal strip over the bridge of his nose. Her hand stays on his shoulder a tad longer then usual and he almost smiles behind his mask.

She is already turning to set her position when he leaves, setting the delicate parts of her AK and cleaning them before returning them to place.

Merlin goes down the stairs, out of the building and over the street in a minute, he can hear the statics of the radio in his ear, and the rhythmic breaths of his companion on the roof. Entering through the fence is a game and soon he is walking into the open courtyard. He walks slowly, as if burdened by the weigh of the tool box he carries, his head moves in slow arcs, scanning his surroundings.

There are about fifteen people unloading one of the trucks, frozen sea food by the looks of the boxes, some loading out and some shuffling heavy crates into the freezer themselves. There are shouts and yelps as the crew banters, and Merlin's approaching shuffle is not noted.

"The driver is having a smoke behind the wall to your left," The statics erupt to life in his ear, "The work manager is coming around the building, in three, two...one."

Merlin is already walking to the other side as she counts down, the work manager shuffling his feet back into the docking area just as Merlin disappears behind the wall, coming face to face with one of the truck drivers. Merlin brandishes his best groveling smile and winks at the driver.

"Got a cigarette to spare?" He says in Korean, his back gaining the timid arc of a man begging a favor and a break. The driver looks at him with a scrunched nose, his unshaven upper lip twisted to show his yellowing teeth.

"Not for smelly, lazy men like you," he says in a patronizing drawl, "Beat it."

Merlin haunches over slightly, sending the man an offended look that he knew would satisfy him as he continued walking toward the back of the building, circling it. Distantly he hears a loud crash and multiple curses as his radio comes to life once more.

"Boxes fell, if you go now the work manager has his back, enter the second cooler, there have to be doors between them. Drop your tools, the others have none."

Merlin is now walking silently, the sun making fat drops of sweat slide teasingly down his back. He crunches only for a moment to drop his tool box, and his gun hidden inside by a bush, out of sight enough not to be of interest.

One, Two..

He slides over the edge of the open docking area, careful not to jostle any tools or crates.

Three, four, five..

The work manager is a fat man, now patting his wide, sweaty forehead with a grimy looking towel, his eyes scrunched piggishly as he shouts at the laboring crew. Frozen crabs litter the floor and ice still dribble from wooden boxes as a door bangs open and a man- the supervisor, probably, comes out, adding his shouts to those of the other man.

Six, seven-

Merlin grabs a crate and shuffle hurriedly into the fourth freezer as the work manager shouts after him and another worker who enters after him. He waits just a moment before putting down the crate down at the back of the freezer, giving the other man time to ease his load and get out. Merlin's head snaps to the sides, glasses now tucked in an inner pocket, as he takes in his environment.

Eight, Nine-

Another man enters, huffing wildly, clearly annoyed a second man follows closely. They are both speaking in fast Korean, not noticing Merlin as he slithers away expertly, hidden by the vapor leaking lazily from a pipe in the ceiling and their fogging breathes.

His back touches the ice covered walls, his sweat now cooling rapidly into an itching distraction at the back of his mind.

His hand suddenly touched something cold and jutting, he twists it.

It creaks loudly and he freezes over. The men turn their head, looking at his direction,one of them putting his crate down, taking a step toward him.

An angry shout makes them turn their heads as the work manager explodes outside, screaming openly at the supervisor as the point fingers and shuffle the blame from one to another as the workers scoop up ice and crabs off the concrete floor.

"I've found your door," he says in a low tone as the men leave. He shuffles a feet in through,passing slowly through a small silver of an opening into cooler number three. He closes the frozen door after himself silently and looks about the empty freezer. The doors here are shut, only two yellow lights shine dimly over the neatly stacked frozen goods. "I'm in the third one two the right,closed doors."

he can hear her shuffle lightly, as she re settles down, and her voice rings clear in his ear. "Galahad had said to look for hidden compartments, see anything out of place?"

Merlin rises from his enforced crouch,letting his height stretch for a moment as he scans the closed freezers. It looked old, even though it was taken care of. No leaks or peeling paint, everything was organized meticulously in place, small tags in a neat hand-writing glued carefully to every crate.

Red crabs, giant clams, red oysters, small peeled shrimps, Merlin walks down the lanes, looking at each small labeled product, the smell of fish starting to overwhelm his sharp nose. He walks up and down the aisle a couple of times,making sure his partial control of Hangul doesn't hinder his search.

"look at the roof, is there enough place for a hidden room there?" he asks as his senses start to tell his it is probably time to go out of the freezer and search the others.

"I don't...actually, there may be if you stick to the wall parallel to the freezer you came from, the linings of the roof of that section looks new."

Merlin climbs over the crates,leaving wet tracks over the wooden boxes as his hands wander over the surface, on and behind pipes, trying to feel anything else but the ice numbing his fingers.

"There is nothing-" he says, taking another step to a different crate, and suddenly hearing a hollow thunk. He looks down, shuffling his foot away from a label that says neatly 'frozen scallops'. Merlin drops to his knees silently, looking closely, and there it was. The shipment was outdated, the label looked older, a slight shade of darker yellow and Merlin's prying hands did not find any scallops as he lifted the wooden lid.

Instead of one lid rising, five had risen, giving enough place for a man to pass comfortably if he came walking from the next aisle over.

"I've found a passage." Merlin breaths as he climbs down quickly, walking over the aisle, now looking directly at the passage.

"Up?" Elyan's voice asks.

"No, the crates here open," he says, the baton in his hand, and with a decisive flick of his wrist snaps open smoothly. "It goes down, there are stairs."

"I'm going in." he says and ascends down, his radio giving a weak crackling noise as his range is cut.

* * *

Her rifle is already packed neatly in the trunk of the leased car, her fingers tap on the wheel as her leg is rock steady and ready at the gas paddle. Elyan is parked three streets away from the warehouse, the radio is drifting some music out into the tense atmosphere as echos of conflict boom and spark in her ear.

It is like watching an action film with her eyes closed, all noise. She had always hated action films, they glossed over the guts the blood the puke and the sweat of it all, smoothing hard training, risks and stakes into colorful photo-montage with one life-or-death kiss at the end. Her leg twitched as she heard a crack, Merlin cursed in her ear as she guessed one of the men had managed to land a punch on him.

She hears rustles of cloth, flesh hitting flesh and suddenly she hears plastic ripping and something bangs loud, making her blink.

The car is purring into life in a heartbeat and Elyan's foot is set dead-steady on the gas paddle, sending the car leaping into the empty road. Her heartbeat is slow and steady as she takes a hard turn right in time to see the warehouse's docking bay in an uproar, men running around like headless geese, shouting and spreading out, searching.

But no Merlin.

She drives past the warehouse without a moment to spare, taking a left and a right before spotting a man walking hurriedly into the ally to her right, she passes it, taking another right to round up him up. He walks with a hitch in his step, he yells when her car stop next to him, wheels screeching.

But the Korean man looking suspiciously at her it's not Merlin.

She curses, sending the car into a leap once more. She makes a round and another round in the adjoining roads, all empty except from wondering workers and business men on their way to work.

She can no longer hear anything in her small radio and the silence is the thing that disturbs her the most. Ten minutes go by and her hands starts to dampen, her heart rate spiking up as a single vision starts circulating in her mind's eye.

What if Merlin was still inside the freezer?

She turns the car back the way she came calmly, hoping that her radio will give a single crackle of life, but the silence is the only thing that escorts her back to the warehouse. She stops the car at a traffic light, busying her hands as she waits for the light to turn green- she readies her gun and tightens the holster of her commando knife to her thigh. Its angles bite sharp at her skin but it only serves to draw her focus into a sharp razor as her vision settles squarely on the warehouse and the men milling around it. She can see water vapor from the freezer drifting lazily into the air, and between all of them one man-

the door of the car closes with a sharp snap just as Elyan's gun is up and ready, the click of the bullets sliding into position still in the air. The barrel is pressed into the skin of Merlin's cheek, biting into the angle of his high cheek bone. His nose is starting to swell, a cut on his forehead is still dripping red lazily and the smears on his brow and lip suggest he had used his sleeve to wipe the blood away from his eyes.

His smile is stretching thin with a grimace of pain as Elyan notices he holds himself differently. Her gun is away from his cheek, the shape of the barrel still visible on his skin as her foot slams down on the gas paddle, taking them far away from the warehouse. Wearily, he throws a small, dirty looking bag onto the back seat. A small vibrant logo, with a Korean catch phrase emblazoned on it in hideous pink writing- hanging by its last threads , looking out of place in the breaking tension of the car.

He uses his left hand to take his seat backwards, settling into it with a slow exhale. He stays quite as he pulls a handkerchief out of the glove box, wiping his face, treading carefully around his swollen nose, his other hand lays useless at his side, the shoulder at a strange angle, out of its socket; but She doesn't stop the car, nor does he ask her to.

The purr of the car is the only thing breaking the silence.

* * *

Merlin says something completely foul as Elyan slides his shoulder back into its socket. He has a large Styrofoam cup filled with the first thing off the menu Elyan had seen, it's sickeningly sweet and resembles coffee poorly, but he drinks it calmly when she stitches his brow.

Out of the small ratty bag, Merlin produces documents. Handfuls of receipts, three files in neat looking binders- a little crumpled from his flee- and a small pocket notepad.

They sit behind a gas station on the outskirts of great Seoul- He on a burrowed plastic chair and she leans on the hood of their rented car, going through the papers slowly. Her nosed is scrunched up in concentration as her eyes flicker over unfamiliar words; her hand darts up to move a strand of hair from her eyes absentmindedly.

"I can't make anything out of this." Elyan says finally, "Other than some high scale money laundering I can't see anything beyond messy accounting." She grimaces and Merlin takes a second to appreciate her quirks.

"I need to sleep on it." She concludes as she straightens the hem of her skirt. Merlin fishes out his phone, flipping it open in a moment, wishing the small message icon would turn up red, but it stays annoyingly, tantalizingly blank.

She cleans him up, straightening their guise as they make their way back to their hotel, the receptionist is a young male attendant who misses the state of Merlin's face completely as Elyan leans down the counter to ask a completely mundane question.

The room is in the same state of turned-over blankets and carefully discarded shoes, but Merlin and Elyan don't pass a word between them until they are both done sweeping the apartment for bugs and wires.

Elyan disappears into the bathroom with a sigh as Merlin sits himself down gingerly on the sofa, a cold pack of ice resting on his nose, he closes his eyes and lets his body relax. His fingers circle lazily over a small puckered scar on his knuckle, a bad habit his mentor used to scold him for. Well the woman wasn't here now, was she?

His fingers continue to move in small circle as he listens to the water of the shower make their way down to the drain. It was truly astounding how much of actual spy work, as his old nan used to say, was truly hours and hours of waiting. The excitement, the adrenaline and the rush of his life being on the thin edge of a knife was such a small part of his work, Merlin wonders how people would feel if they knew James Bond was probably swamped with such a large pile of paperwork he doesn't get his nose out of HQ for weeks.

He hears Elyan's feet padding out unto the carpeted floor, a stray vapor of scented shampoo makes him crack open his eyes.

"Merlin," She says, and her tone belays her state of mind, "We need to looks these over." She sits on the small couch in front of him, putting the files he had gathered on the small coffee shop. They sift through the pile slowly, almost agonizingly so, translating messy Korean handwriting and official recites with slow burning patience.

At a point Merlin straightens with a sigh, his body still sore, getting up to pour they another round of coffee. Elyan is crouched over her work, biting the end of the pencil she hold every once in a while.

"This is...Not what I had expected." She says finally. The cup of coffee in front of her is empty, the residue at the bottom already a dry brown stain.

The receipts are evasive enough to look innocent, but reading between the lines only betrays the magnitude of money laundering operation the shipping company is maneuvering "It doesn't connect." Merlin says and Elyan gives him a pointed curious look.

"They are criminals, sure, but it looks like this is all there is to it."

"So what about Sasohan?" She asks.

"Galahad will send him to 'lake'." Merlin concludes and that is enough of an answer to let Elyan think of other things.

"He... I am sure he wasn't lying when he said Al Fauda, Merlin. A man wouldn't throw a name like that to the air just to impress an escort girl he had already paid for unless he was looking to boast."

Merlin gives her a long look as he rises from the sofa, "You know that I trust you with anything." He states, sending that bit of truth to float into the air.

She nods once.

They take careful photographs of every document they have and attach the translation. Merlin's phone beeps resolutely as the secured lines are in place, sending their confusion to the other side of the world to Berlin.

* * *

A\N- I have no excuse for how ridiculously long it took me to write this chapter.


End file.
